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Or he was extremely repulsed by me. I saw it in the way he stood still, recoiled, barely breathed whenever I was near.But from the corner of my eyes, at a distance, I’d witnessed his interactions, both with Gideon and other people. He could be relaxed and chat, even up here amongst light witches. So it was me. I was the problem.

I couldn’t be too disappointed; of course a dark wizard would find me abhorrent. My magical signature was a lot brighter than most. Not that I could help it. Just like Lucian was born into darkness—with that platinum blond, straight hair and the pale gray eyes, he seemed allergic to color—I was a goddamned redhead, and filled with more power that I knew what to do with.

Except, just my luck, instead of having the same reaction to him, namely feeling repulsed, wary, and wanting to keep my distance, everything inside me constantly told me to get closer to him.

People wereexhausting. They had anxiety and depression and various aches and ailments and my core ability, ever awake beneath the surface, pushed me, demanding I heal and soothe and take care of everyone around me. Whether I felt like it or not, no matter how anxious, achy, exhausted, scared, or just goddamned busy I was, my power wanted to heal.

And Lucian Regis? He didn’t exude any need. Just raw strength. His steadying presence in itself would be enticing, even if he didn’t look likethat.

Damn the day he started at the Guard. I used to have a more or less normal life, without obsessing over dark, dangerous sorcerers who couldn’t stand the sight of me before he inserted himself in my periphery.

Today, still scared, angry, and tired, I couldn’t resist. I just had to see if I’d been right, if being close to him felt different to everyone else.

Nothing prepared me for it. Not only was he just as powerful as I’d estimated from a distance, but close to him, I didn’t feel anything else, anyone else. Not even Gideon’s bad lower backand his stiff shoulder. I had to remember to nag him into getting a massage before it bugged me. The echo of other people’s suffering could cause sympathetic phantom pain in my own body, especially if I was close to the person.

Back in the archives, far later than reasonable, with six rune books scattered around my desk, all open at key passages, I should have focused on the mystery of the words etched under my long sleeves, but I was replaying the events of this afternoon instead.

Gosh, I shouldn’t have made him eat the cupcake, practically forcing it down his throat when he just wanted to be left alone. I was like a feline, spotting the one person who didn’t like cats, and asking for cuddles.

But I was so fucking tired. I could use some strength.

I wondered what he’d say if I walked up to him and just asked if I could sit by his side and let him block out the world for me.

He’d probably go for a restraining order.

He seemed to like the cupcake, though. He asked for a second one in exchange for faebloom essence.

“The hell, Kleos?” Silver flopped down on the other side of my desk, covered in sweat.

It was odd how, even in this state, she still smelled like a fresh spring day. Unfair, really.

Petite, short, dainty, my best friend had the physical strength of your average tank. Her smell wasn’t the only thing that didn’t make sense. But who was I to judge?

“Why are you still here?”

“Why are you?” I countered.

“If I want to make it to protector next year, I need to nail the next tests. I squeezed in a workout tonight. Alongworkout. It’s almost midnight.”

I could tell; her hair was back to its signature metallic silver. Each morning in the shower, she stubbornly dyed the longflowing waves bright pink, and every night by midnight, it was back to shining silver. One of the many strange things about her.

I didn’t bother to ask her how she knew I was still here. The pendant glowing softly around her neck was answer enough.

“Do you need me to replenish it?” I asked, tilting my chin towards the item.

Silver wrinkled her nose. She didn’t like to talk about it, didn’t like having to rely on my magic. But bottom line, I could help, and it wasn’t against the rules for a Guard employee to wear enchanted items, so I wasn’t going to stop. It kept my best friend safe.

“Nah, it’s fine. You filled it up, like, last week, and I haven’t had to deflect much magic yet.” She shrugged. “Unless you need to drain yourself.”

I bit my lower lip; we were approaching a dangerous subject for me.

I drained my magic far more often than was normal—orallowed—because if I didn’t, there was a chance that people around me would notice what only Silver and I knew.

It was changing. It wasgrowing.

Kids were supposed to attain the full extent of their magic in their teens. And yes, at sixteen, I got an extra influx of power, to my parents’ great concern. That should have been the end of it.

But I was twenty-three, and every year, I felt stronger. There were witches who could faint after performing a handful of spells. Some took potions to replenish their energy. There was a thriving black-market trade for enchanted items meant to increase people’s magical endurance. And I was struggling to getridof power.